Ode to the Dragon Queen
by Rapid Squirrell
Summary: Just a little story. About someone in love with...Well you'll find out if the title doesn't give it away. Warning original Character involved. But for Merlin's sake's this isn't a Mary Sue.
1. An Ode

It all started with my love of Dragons. Want to find out more? Stay tuned, Though this has nothing to do with the title, my story will rule the world! (At least I hope so)  
  
My parents being muggles and conservatives did all they could to squelch my desire to be different, for they did not understand my calling. Recently, I've been dreaming about a man with long, shimmering white- blonde hair reaching for me, it was frightening at first, yes, but I came accustomed to it or rather him. Maybe I should start from the beginning than the middle. My childhood was no less than what people would call privileged, of course, I would agree with them. That is before I turned eleven. My whole life changed in an instant, with the sounding of what seemed like dove's wings a letter addressed to me arrived and disaster followed. An explosion on that fateful night took everyone I loved, except my mother, and gave me something I would cherish for my years to come. power. I still don't know why or how I survived Volemort only that a surging power burned in my veins and then I blacked out. When I came to I was in the hospital with a bandage over my head, my mother sustained massive injury and had to stay in the hospital for the rest of the summer. My will power kept her alive I just know it.  
  
  
  
Read and Review. Chow. 


	2. Waking up

Disclaimer: I have never owned or will ever own Harry Potter. No money has been profited by this story. All the characters belong to either Jo Rowling or themselves. The plot is nonexistent-I mean the plot belongs to me.

A/N: Not happy...read the story please.

_**Ode to the Dragon Queen**_

**Chapter Two**

**Waking up**

When I woke up, I could hear people talking around me. They seemed to think I was in a coma. I caught snatches of the conversation.... family dead except for the mother... house burned down... nothing recovered except for a letter... will stay with aunt _if _she wakes up. The general theme was "How in the world could an eleven year old and a thirty-one year old survive such a horrific act? As time past I wondered they same thing. Why did the want me? On the other hand, was it I they were after? The first days out of surgery were my darkest times; my life had changed from Garren Wales normal girl to an almost orphaned girl.

Now I was living with someone I barely know. My aunt, Janis, seemed a bit odd not because she seemed to wear every piece of jewelry she had around her neck and read futures out coffee cups; no I find her weird because she always seemed scared of me. She could one moment talk to me, as I was any other child then the next shudder when I looked into her eyes. Three weeks have past and I feel well enough to visit my mother.

Janis took me to the hospital; I had to go to the waiting room it seemed more people were in the hospital than I remember. Many deaths have occurred now that I think of it. I heard my name called. As I walked down the hall, I felt so insignificant everyone seemed not to notice me I missed that attention I got when I was in the hospital. Janis stopped and went into a room to my right I followed. I stood in shock beside my mother's bed, she was so tiny, so venerable was this my mother?

"Bella your daughter came here to see you isn't that great?" A nurse said talking to my mother as if she was a child I looked at this thirty something chubby blonde nurse talk to my mother as if she was some kind of invalid. She seemed to sense my glare at her because she mumbled about someone needing a check up. Good she left now all you have to do Janis was to leave and I would be fine. Janis got up and started to leave "I think I'll leave you two alone" I blinked several times what just happened here? I approached my mother with caution. "Hi" my voice was so weak and fearful I barely even recognized it. She used to be so beautiful I guess that under all those bandages and that tube in her throat she was still my beautiful gray-eyed angel.

My mother was a beauty queen she had won every contest she was in, she had met daddy at an art show. Beauty and brains the perfect package, I myself took after my mother in some aspects if you looked hard enough my father Daniel was a psychologist of children he spent most of his time analyzing what I did rather than getting to know me. I had gotten along with many people in my school thought I called none of them my friends. Real friends did not exist for me. The games that people had played to get a status in the popularity circles were not my forte. I was simply a bystander. Just like now, I observed, listened, and studied the people that had come in and out my mother's room. I have not the worked up the courage to touch her, to see if this was real. Maybe if I closed my eyes and then open them again I could be back at my house, with my parents. It was not as if they were actually parents to me. They mostly stayed with me ease their own conscience. It was simple really; they pretended to be devoted parents in front of their neighbors and other prominent people. Once those people had left things would go back to normal, they would neglect me, leaving me to my own devices. Occasionally they would feel guilty about leaving their only child alone to raised by a nanny. Quality time would be spent-when it was convenient for them-and then everything would be fine a dandy. The cycle lasted until my eleventh birthday...before I could sink into my depression the heart monitor died.


End file.
